


The Problem With New Neighbors

by penstrikesmidnight



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Neighbors, crop circles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penstrikesmidnight/pseuds/penstrikesmidnight
Summary: Ushijima enlists the help of his maybe-archnemesis and new neighbor Oikawa to help him investigate crop circles at Kita's rice farm. It's been a very exhausting month, to say the least.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru & Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Oikawa Exchange Winter 2020





	The Problem With New Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zhahzu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhahzu/gifts).



> Hi Zeph! I hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Ushijima Wakatoshi discovers that Oikawa Tooru lives next door to him when he wakes up one morning to find his door sealed completely shut with vines. It takes him almost two hours and a very severe reprimanding from his boss when he calls in late before he can untangle all the plants without killing any of them.

When he is finally free of them, he bundles them nicely and leaves them on Oikawa’s doorstep with a note, which reads:

_Oikawa,_

_I did not realize that I would be your neighbor when I signed my lease. It would be nice to catch up with you sometime. Please let me know if you would like to come to my house for dinner. Also, if you could refrain from allowing your plants to grow uncontrollably, that would help me immensely._

_Sincerely,  
Ushijima Wakatoshi_

When he gets home, there is another note and even more greenery on his door.

_Ushiwaka-chan!_

_I feel like it’s a conflict of interest to become anything more than archnemeses. Fraternizing with the enemy is not something I am interested in adding to my list of crimes. But please let me know if there is anything else I can do to inconvenience you._

_Love,  
Oikawa Tooru (๛ ˘ ³˘)۶_

Ushijima sighs, folding the note and slipping it into his pocket as he studies his door. It would be a shame to waste so many beautiful plants. He ends up going to the store and spending almost half of a paycheck in soil and pots, then gets to work salvaging the plants on his door so he can get into his apartment.

* * *

Because Ushijima is the face of superheroism in Japan, he is called to a variety of scenes, ranging from helping pets who are stuck in trees to mediating heated domestic arguments. To no one’s surprise, most superheroes’ skill sets aren’t needed every day, or, really, every week, so Ushijima finds himself taking jobs that the police do not have the time for. This is how he became the beloved Ushiwaka, hero of the people. He gets paid well, and he is able to connect with the citizens of his town on a personal level, so he deems his career choices a success.

Crop circles, though, are something he has never had to investigate before.

“They just appeared here overnight?” Ushijima asks Kita dubiously. Kita nods, his face stoic. From what Ushijima has garnered, Kita is not one for dramatics, which Ushijima finds relieving, especially in such an unprecedented situation. “Did you notice anything else out of the ordinary in the last few days?”

Kita shrugs. “Not particularly. An influx in varmint, but that’s really nothing new this time of year.” 

Ushijima isn’t sure what else he can do besides follow Kita to the site of the largest circle, located on the far right of the field. Ushijima cannot find anything amongst the trodden rice plants that shouldn’t be there. He then moves far enough away from the fields that he will not harm any of the crop and jumps, high enough to get the full picture as if he were in a helicopter. It just looks like a small collection of circles, hardly making a dent in the field, barely big enough to cause concern. On his second jump he snaps a photo on his phone, just in case.

“Please reach back out if anything else happens,” Ushijima finally says, not sure what more he can do. Kita nods, thanks him, and goes back to work. Ushijima figures he should as well.

* * *

When Ushijima gets home, there is music blasting from the apartment on his right.

Specifically, Oikawa’s apartment.

Ushijima’s senses aren’t completely super, but they are more acute than most. He believes they are some strange side effect of his super strength, and as such has done as much as he could to arrange an apartment that was quiet, with minimal contact to a neighbor’s walls. 

But of course, Oikawa knows exactly what Ushijima’s powers are. This is a purposeful maneuver on his part.

The problem is, the music isn’t even loud enough to disturb anyone else. It is at just the perfect volume for peak irritation for Ushijima though: loud enough for him to know there is noise, but quiet enough that he cannot make out the words, or even a proper beat to the song.

After twenty minutes of this non stop buzzing, he decides to walk out to his balcony to take in the fresh air and watch the sun set, hoping the sound would be just the slightest bit muffled.

He stops abruptly when he sees Oikawa.

He is also on his balcony, sitting cross-legged on the ground, potting a plant. His hair is slightly disheveled, and the cheek Ushijima can see is smeared with dirt. As always, Ushijima is struck by his stillness. For someone so loud, so pretty, so _obnoxious_ sometimes, Oikawa sure is calm when he wants to be. Each of his movements are precise, predetermined, and confident as he tends to the plants in front of him. They seem to bend toward him, as if he were the sun. He is mouthing the words to the song wafting from the open door behind him.

The sun casts the world in a warm, golden glow. Oikawa reaches up, rubbing at his cheek with the back of his hand, leaving another streak of dirt. It is...strangely endearing.

Ushijima backs slowly into his apartment, shutting the door softly so as not to alarm Oikawa. He puts on his headphones, drowning out Oikawa’s music with something much more soothing, even if it is almost at full volume. He hopes Oikawa has a good rest of his evening.

* * *

Kita calls Ushijima out to his farm two more times in the next month to look at new patterns left in his fields. At this point, Ushijima finds it safe to say that there is something deeper going on. Whether it is supernatural in nature or just a prank, he cannot determine. He figures he needs to try to gather more information himself. 

He gets permission from Kita to monitor his fields over the next several nights, and so he begins his new vigil. He arrives just as the sun is setting, settling on the edge of the field to wait the night out. 

Nothing happens during the first two weeks. Ushijima grows tired, as he still has to work his shift at the Hero Initiative. On his way home from the fifteenth frustratingly boring night, he is just rounding the corner to his apartment when he sees Oikawa’s door open. He steps out dressed for a run in teal running shorts and a white shirt, earbuds hanging around his neck as he fiddles with his phone. Ushijima hesitates. 

When Oikawa looks up to see Ushijima, surprise flashes across his face, soon replaced by a look of revulsion that Ushijima is unfortunately very familiar with. It’s a slight curl of Oikawa’s lips, the tiniest wrinkling of his nose, the way his head tilts ever so slightly in disdain. It’s the same look Ushijima had seen directed at textbooks Oikawa didn’t want to study and classmates who liked to say _well, actually_ when answering a question. It has also been directed at him numerous times, when he was awarded something Oikawa had also worked hard for and ultimately hadn’t received, or when he tried to coerce Oikawa into a conversation he hadn’t started and didn’t want to take part in.

“Good morning,” Ushijima says, belatedly.

“You look like you got run over by a bus,” Oikawa answers, “so I’m not sure how good your morning actually is.”

Ushijima contemplates telling Oikawa about his nightly excursions to Kita’s farm but pauses. An uncomfortable thought has suddenly occurred to him that, possibly, Oikawa could be involved.

“Have a good day,” he says, distracted. He enters his apartment, barely noticing the way Oikawa looked slightly concerned for his well being when he thought Ushijima wasn’t looking.

* * *

Oikawa is considered a nonhero, meaning he hasn’t done anything nefarious enough to classify him as a villain, but he has also willfully chosen not to elect himself as a hero under national law either.

This does not mean that Oikawa has stopped using his powers. Ushijima knows that for a fact. In the three years since they had gone their separate ways after college, Oikawa has been the cause of no less than five major mishaps in Ushijima’s otherwise spotless career, including but not limited to creating an army out of a wooded area that had been scheduled for demolition and poisoning a powerful yakuza leader that Ushijima had been chasing for quite some time. (Granted, he most likely would have gotten off of most of his charges if Oikawa hadn’t taken care of him but still. The law was in place for a reason.)

He had never considered Oikawa as an archnemesis, but now that Oikawa had said it, that’s probably the best definition of their relationship.

Ushijima sighs, turning over in his bed. He’s exhausted, and it should be easy to sleep, but his mind won’t shut down. 

Ushijima doesn’t understand why Oikawa would be causing trouble in a field in the middle of the night on an unsuspecting farm. He will admit that every time he has encountered Oikawa, he was not doing things just for spite, nor for malicious or gainful intent. He had always had sound logic behind him, and right then, Ushijima could not think of any real use for destroying crops.

He doesn’t get any sleep. Instead, he drags himself to work and apologizes to Kita that he will have to miss his shift that night to catch up on sleep. Kita assures him that he understands, so he sleeps uninterrupted for twelve hours. 

When he wakes up, there is a message from Kita on his phone. It is simply a picture of new crop circles that had appeared overnight. Ushijima swears under his breath, then sets his phone aside as he goes about getting ready for his day.

* * *

Another week later, Ushijima has made no headway on the case of Kita’s fields. He had missed two nights, and one of those nights new circles appeared. 

“I am sorry for all the damage done to your crops,” Ushijima apologizes when he sees Kita next.

“Not your fault,” Kita says with a sigh. “It’s not nearly as bad as some pranks. It’s stayed consistently on the right side of the field, with little variation in the pattern. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure it’s probably a vermin problem.”

Ushijima frowns. “It would have to be a very intellectual bunch of creatures.”

Kita scowls. “Oh, believe me, they probably are. If you do not want to continue searching, I’d be okay. I’ll set some traps or something.”

Ushijima is nothing if not determined, and he still has one more trick up his sleeve. “I have someone who I would like to speak with first before I stop my investigation.”

“Suit yerself,” Kita says with a shrug, then leaves Ushijima to his nightly vigilance. 

Once again, nothing happened.

Which has brought him to where he is right now, standing in front of Oikawa’s door the next night after work. He’s almost positive that Oikawa is just going to ignore his knock, maybe yell at him to go home, but still. At this point Ushijima is ready to try just about anything. He’s never encountered a case he hasn’t been able to put a stop to with sheer force of will.

So he’s definitely surprised when the door opens on his second round of knocking, revealing a very irritated looking Oikawa. Upon closer inspection Ushijima realizes that he hasn’t changed much since their college days together; his hair is a little shorter, his shoulders a little broader, but that pout is the same as it was before, compelling and irritating all at once.

“Was my welcome present not enough of a hint for you?” Oikawa asks, waving his hand toward Ushijima’s apartment, his voice snarky but not angry. While they were in school together, Ushijima fell for Oikawa’s bait all the time. Now, he wonders if Oikawa acts the way he does specifically because he knows he will get a rise out of him.

Regardless, Ushijima chooses to ignore the barb, cutting straight to the point. “Are you the one making crop circles in Kita’s rice fields?”

Oikawa’s blink is slow, languid, and Ushijima can see him trying to process the question. That’s really all the answer he needs. “I am sorry to disturb you. Please, have a good night.”

“Wait.”

Ushijima turns back around, shocked that Oikawa wants to continue a conversation with him. Oikawa looks like he swallowed a lemon as he says, “I think maybe we should compare notes.”

Ushijima raises his eyebrows. “Why would you be working with crop circles?”

Oikawa’s cheeks turn pink. He stands up straight and squares his shoulders, as if he is about to defend a very unpopular opinion. “I have a vested interest in them. I saw something on the news the other day, and I’ve been meaning to get out to that rice farm, but I’ve been busy. If I’d known you were working on this, I would have meddled much sooner.”

Ushijima stares at Oikawa. Oikawa stares back. Sometimes, Ushijima forgets how unpredictable Oikawa is. It should be off-putting. Instead, Ushijima always finds himself irritatingly intrigued by him, just like he had in middle school, and high school, and college. 

“Well,” Oikawa says finally, “are you going to come in, or are you just going to stand there gaping like a fish?”

Ushijima blinks, then hurries past Oikawa into his apartment before he can change his mind. Oikawa’s space is clean, open, and homey, plants tucked away into various corners and shelves around the house. Ushijima can see his futon peeking out from the doorway to his room, the bedding rumpled.

“Sit down or whatever.” Oikawa waves a hand toward his furniture. “Do you want a drink?”

“No thank you,” Ushijima says, sitting gingerly on a chair at the table. Oikawa grabs a binder off of a shelf next to his television, setting it in front of Ushijima before disappearing into the kitchen. Ushijima flips the binder open. 

The first thing he notices is how organized the research is. There are divider tabs, dates, pages of neatly compiled notes, and everything is laminated. He’s not surprised, as Oikawa has always been a meticulous person, but he appreciates that his neatness extends to his hobbies as well. 

Ushijima begins studying the collected information closer. A lot of the sections start with a newspaper or online article from local sources showing the crop circles. None of them are identical. They range from different types of crops to how big the actual crop circle is, if there are multiple patterns or just one. Most are only a one time occurrence. 

There are no cases similar to Kita’s. 

After a few minutes, Oikawa joins him at the table, placing a bottle of water next to him even though he hadn’t asked for one. Oikawa himself takes a swig of tea, his eyes never leaving Ushijima’s face.

“I am impressed,” Ushijima says finally, not sure if that’s the right word for how he is feeling. Oikawa’s expression hardens, as if he thinks Ushijima is making fun of him. He isn’t. He has always known Oikawa was a little...obsessive, but this seems a little much. He decides to cut straight to the point. “What is your theory on why this phenomenon occurs?”

“Aliens.”

Ushijima stares at Oikawa. He isn’t sure if Oikawa is joking, but by the way Oikawa’s face hasn’t changed its slightly belligerent expression, he is assuming that, unfortunately, he is not. “Pardon me?” Ushijima finally says.

“Aliens,” Oikawa repeats. “If we exist with our powers, what’s to say that there aren’t aliens out there? That we’re not some sort of alien mutation or something?”

“And they’re trying to communicate with us through crop circles?” Ushijima asks incredulously, not even bothering to address Oikawa’s implication that their powers are from aliens. “Isn’t it more likely that, I don’t know, someone else with powers such as yours is playing a trick on someone?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Ah, there it is; the blame. The reason you’re actually here, which is not for my expertise. You don’t think I haven’t thought of that before? I’ve researched everyone that has shown even a slightest bit of nature magic. They’re all clean. I’m the only ‘villain’ of this variety.” 

Oikawa puts air quotes around the word villain. Ushijima feels the need to clarify. “Nonhero.”

“Whatever. Most of them are pranks by people with too much time on their hands, but the cases I’ve compiled are anomalies. Ones that no one has claimed, or that can’t be explained any other way.”

Ushijima closes the binder and hands it back to Oikawa. “I did not know of your...interest, with crop circles before this. But I am glad to hear that you are not involved.”

“Worried I’d kick your ass again?” Oikawa says with a smirk. He puts his tea down, stretches his long limbs as if he is a cat waking from a nap. Ushijima watches as a plant on a shelf next to his hand tilts down, brushing a leaf against his fingers. He strokes the plant a few times before untangling himself from it.

Ushijima looks away quickly before Oikawa notices him watching. “Now that you’re here, you might as well tell me about what’s going on.”

Ushijima does. He pulls out his phone, showing Oikawa the pictures. His eyebrows crease as he studies them. Ushijima then proceeds to tell him that he hasn’t seen anything out of the ordinary, and that the only time there are new patterns created is when he is not there. 

Oikawa blinks his eyes slowly when Ushijima is done with his story. “Ushiwaka-chan,” he says, his tone slightly condescending. Ushijima scowls at him, because he absolutely hates that Oikawa calls him that. “This isn’t supernatural at all. It’s a prank. Don’t you do any research? Or have, I don’t know, _common sense_?”

Ushijima shrugs. “I did a brief google search, but nothing looked to be of any use to me.”

“That’s because it’s _not_ ,” Oikawa snorts. “You’re so short-sighted sometimes. Well, the sun’s almost setting; we’d better get over to Kita-san’s farm if we want to catch this dumb kid terrorizing those poor plants.”

Oikawa stands up, marching over to the door. It takes Ushijima a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and when his brain finally catches up, he scrambles after Oikawa, who is slipping into a jacket and his shoes at the door.

“You don’t have to come…” Ushijima says hurriedly.

“Oh, I sure do. I’m sure you’d find a way to fuck this up somehow, and besides. I don’t want any more plants to die because of your stupidity.”

Ushijima’s cheeks heat up with anger, but he bites his tongue as he too puts his shoes on and follows Oikawa down to the parking lot. He doesn’t ask Oikawa how he knows which vehicle is his, just gets in and starts the car.

* * *

Being in such a confined space with Oikawa for thirty five minutes is unexpectedly quiet and uneventful. Ushijima had prepared himself for snide comments and petty arguments, but instead Oikawa had pulled out his phone, opened a book, and sat consumed by it for most of the ride.

It’s Ushijima who breaks the silence. “Is that also about aliens?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Oikawa hums, his eyes flicking up to Ushijima for just a second before turning back to his book. “Yeah, but of the fictional variety.”

Ushijima wonders what the difference is but doesn’t ask.

Oikawa, though, decides to continue speaking anyway, as if he could read Ushijima’s thoughts. “Science fiction is intriguing. It’s taking all these thoughts, these _what ifs_ , and laying out a whole world that’s just within reach.” He stretches out a long, delicate hand as if trying to touch the idea he had put into the universe.

Ushijima had always grounded himself in reality, but listening to Oikawa’s animated explanation of his favorite genre of entertainment almost makes him want to explore the hypothetical.

After that, the ice between them seems to have softened, at least a bit. Oikawa continues speaking about his favorite movies, then about what he watched the night before, and what he is excited to see soon. Ushijima likes Oikawa’s voice; it is soothing and has a good tone, almost musical. He thinks he could listen to it for hours. 

When they get to the farm, Kita is just finishing his work outside. “This is my colleague, Oikawa,” Ushijima says, gesturing. Oikawa’s smile is biting, but Ushijima ignores him. “Oikawa has plant powers, and is especially interested in crop circles.”

“Is there a way up to your roof?” Oikawa asks with a charming smile, cutting across Ushijima.

Kita nods. He doesn’t look especially surprised by Oikawa’s strange request, just motions them inside and up the stairs to the attic. There isn’t any sort of outlet to the roof, so Ushijima and Oikawa have to shimmy out the window. Neither of them are small men by any means, and Ushijima thinks that anyone watching them would probably be laughing; two people with superpowers struggling not to fall two stories out the window while clambering to the roof. Eventually, they both make it. 

“Why are we up here?” Ushijima asks.

“We need to be out of sight, of course,” Oikawa says. “But we also want to be able to see. You probably sat right on the edge of the field, in plain sight. Of course no one tried to vandalize the field with you out there in the open, advertising exactly what you were here for.”

Ushijima doesn’t want to admit that Oikawa is completely correct in his assessment, but he doesn’t have to. They both know he’s right.

Oikawa sighs, nudging Ushijima with his elbow. Oikawa is a very physical person, much more so than Ushijim. He had forgotten, in their three years apart. “Come on,” Oikawa murmurs. “Might as well get comfortable. I have a feeling we’re going to be here for awhile. Oh, look! You can see the crop circles from here.”

Ushijima follows Oikawa’s finger to where he could barely make out the flattened rice in the light of the half moon. Oikawa keeps talking, his voice just barely above a whisper. “It looks like maybe they’re trying to create a picture? Not sure, though. They’re being awfully slow about it, that’s for sure.”

Oikawa’s body presses against his, warm. Ushijima sits very still, his eyes trained on the dark fields. He can see relatively well, especially with the unobstructed light from the moon. 

An hour passes, then two. Neither of them move, and as the night grows colder, Ushijima is happy to have Oikawa’s body heat next to his. It is also less lonely.

It’s just past midnight when Ushijima notices something odd. It looks almost like a very concentrated wind had started slowly blowing through the right side of the field. Ushijima squints, watching as the rice undulates. “Is that…?” He points toward the discrepancy. Oikawa leans out, his eyes also narrowed. 

“It’s definitely something. It looks too small to be human though. Come on, let’s go see,” Oikawa says, and it’s hard to miss the excitement in his voice. Before Ushijima can ask him how he plans on getting down, he reaches his hand down from the roof. When he pulls back, he has a vine of some sort wrapped around his arm. He does the same with the other, and before Ushijima can utter a word, Oikawa launches himself off the roof.

Ushijima scrambles to follow. He lands with a thud, rolling to dampen the impact of his fall. Oikawa is much more graceful, using the plants almost as springs, barely touching the ground before he launches himself directly into the rice fields toward the person flattening the crops.

Ushijima races after him. It has been too long since he has felt the thrill of the chase, the heart-pounding anticipation of pursuit. Oikawa must think so too, because he lets out a whoop of excitement, which Ushijima would normally reprimand him for, but if they hadn’t been spotted before this, then the person is very oblivious.

It is an unusual experience, chasing after something in a rice field. The ground is soft and very wet, making it harder than usual to run. The plants are not tall by any means, but they obscure his vision enough that he is slightly disoriented, which causes him to lag ever so slightly behind. Oikawa certainly has the advantage, deftly avoiding the rice plants in hot pursuit of something Ushijima lost sight of a long time ago. Ushijima notices that the plants seem to bend toward him, strengthening and fortifying themselves against danger. He wonders if they communicate with Oikawa in some way, if they are leading him to the threat in their midst.

Ushijima isn’t sure what happens next, but Oikawa stops abruptly, then lets out a yelp of surprise. A streak of red jumps directly at his face, and Oikawa has to duck in order to avoid being hit by it. The creature, larger than a cat but smaller than a large dog, twists in the air, digging his claws into Oikawa’s shirt before launching himself off of his shoulder and sailing over Ushijima’s head, letting out a guttural yelp of triumph. The impact of the jump causes Oikawa to lose his balance. He twists on one foot before falling.

“Oikawa!” Ushijima says, alarmed as Oikawa smashes to the ground. 

“Was that a _fox_?!” Oikawa pants as he rolls to a stop next to Ushijima. He scrambles to his feet, taking off the way they had just come before Ushijima can ask if he is all right. He uses his fancy plant trick again, moving himself much easier through the rice than Ushijima is able to navigate the soft, wet soil. The fox, for that is indeed what the creature had been, nimbly prances through the field, looking over his shoulder with what Ushijima could have sworn was a smirk. Apparently, it also enjoys the thrill of the chase.

“Come here, you little demon!” Oikawa snarls. Ushijima sees the rice plants start bending toward the fox, but it just dodges over and around the plants, looping back toward them. Before Ushijima knows what is happening, the fox is between his feet. He stumbles, something that he almost never does, and topples straight into Oikawa, who lands stomach-first in the field next to him.

“Ow,” Oikawa groans, rolling to his back and sitting up. He shakes his head, as if he is trying to orient himself. Ushijima also sits up and winces. He glances around, but the fox is long gone.

Oikawa blows a semi-dry strand of hair out of his face, then rubs at an itch on his cheek with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of mud on his face. The gesture reminds Ushijima of the day he’d seen Oikawa on his balcony, not even a week ago, potting plants. He is soaked from their chase through the fields, and his shirt sticks to his chest and stomach in a very flattering way. 

Ushijima turns away from him to look back at the mostly-intact rice field, courtesy of Oikawa. Oikawa’s powers may not be universally useful, but they have always been awe-inspiring to Ushijima. If it had just been him, everything would have been ruined. Oikawa, consciously or unconsciously, had protected the rice from their mad dash through it.

“We don’t tell anyone except Kita about this. Us, the top heroes in our class, bested by a fox,” Oikawa says, disgust oozing off his words. He stands up and offers his hand to Ushijima, who takes it. Oikawa pulls him to his feet. “And don’t you dare tell anyone about my obsession with aliens or I will suffocate you in your sleep.”

“Of course not,” Ushijima says. Without another word, they trek back to the car. Ushijima is so exhausted he doesn’t even get the towels he had stowed in the trunk of his car in case of emergency. He’s very jealous when Oikawa curls up on his seat and falls instantly asleep, snoring lightly.

All in all, he thinks, this was a successful mission. At least he got to the bottom of what had made the crop circles and satisfied his curiosity. He can’t help but keep glancing over at Oikawa, at the way the lights reflect off of the sharp planes of his face and cast shadows of his absurdly long eyelashes onto his cheekbones. He had also been able to catch up with Oikawa, a success on its own. 

When they get back home, Oikawa drapes his long body against Ushijima, mostly asleep as they maneuver up the three flights of stairs to their neighboring apartments.

“Don’t go without me in the morning,” Oikawa insists. He never fails to surprise Ushijima. 

“I am leaving at five,” he says, to which Oikawa makes a face but doesn’t complain. He waits to go into his own apartment until Oikawa has disappeared behind his own door. 

He knows Oikawa doesn’t want to admit it, but they made a pretty good team.

* * *

When they tell Kita about their embarrassing fox chase through the rice field the next morning, he doesn’t look surprised. Instead, his lips thin as if they had confirmed something he has been hoping had not been the case the whole time.

“Damn Atsumu,” he mutters. “I am so sorry for the inconvenience that he has caused. I will make sure it never happens again.”

Ushijima thinks about asking Kita to elaborate on this so-called ‘Atsumu,’ but instead, he just gives a small bow. “We are glad to have been of service.”

Oikawa snorts, folding his arms. “Speak for yourself. I was supposed to demolish a building last night.”

“Ignore him,” Ushijima says, and before Oikawa can say anything more to defend himself, Ushijima says farewell for both of them and steers Oikawa away from Kita’s doorstep.

“You’re too nice, Ushiwaka-chan, that’s why you get yourself into these situations,” Oikawa says once they’re on the road home. “I told you it was just a silly prank. Can you _believe_ there’s a fox out there terrorizing farmers by trying to make pictures in their crops? And you think aliens are so impossible.”

“Stop calling me that,” Ushijima says with less bite than usual. “Like I told Kita-san, I am glad to help in any way that I can, even if it is just chasing a fox away from his farm so he can yield a successful crop.”

Oikawa sighs, leaning back further in his seat to get comfortable. “Never thinking for yourself, always having someone else tell you what to do. I like that about you. It makes you predictable.”

“There is nothing wrong with being predictable.”

“Mmm,” Oikawa says. Before Ushijima can ask him to elaborate, he turns on the radio, flipping through the stations until he finds something incredibly pop.

They make it back to their apartment building in good time, enough time that Ushijima can go up and sleep for a few hours before work. He follows Oikawa up the stairs, and he is surprised when Oikawa hesitates at his door, turning to look at him with his wide brown eyes, as if he is trying to figure out the best strategy to win a game.

Ushijima clears his throat. “Are you still sure you don’t want to work for the Hero Initiative? You would be a much needed asset. I could put in a good word for you.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Listen. I lived the corporate life. Not my thing. Maybe if they want an independent contractor, I’ll consider it. But I’m not switching my registration over to hero. Too many politics associated with that. And then we couldn’t be proper rivals.”

“I think we worked rather well together, even as rivals,” Ushijima says.

“Change the subject, Ushiwaka-chan, or everything that we’ve built overnight is going to crumble.” Oikawa folds his arms, cocks his hip out, and tilts his chin up. It makes him look rather intimidating, so Ushijima does as he had suggested.

“My offer for dinner still stands,” Ushijima tries again.

“Yeah, probably gonna say no on that one too. I’ve filled my monthly quota of time spent in your presence. Have a good day at work.” With that, Oikawa shuts the door.

Ushijima sighs, but when he enters his own apartment, he is smiling. Maybe he’ll leave milk bread on Oikawa’s doorstep in the next few days. As a thank you gift, of course.


End file.
